Howl
by Hountricky
Summary: A bit of a follow-up to Solitude, set years after. This time, it's 9 who's gone missing, leaving 7 behind to figure out how she'll cope with the life ahead of her. Rated T for mentions of pregnancy, just to be safe. 7x9, obviously.
1. Part 1

A/N: And I'm back with a new story. Another spur-of-the-moment fic, with a tad more thought put into everything since I've gone over it several times. I'm still deciding on a title for this but I'll leave it as 'Howl' for now. Maybe some of you will understand why. Anyway, too many songs and stories inspired this so I won't say any of that. Most likely, this will be a two-parter, but we'll see. Originally, it was going to be like my last fic- a long one-shot. But oh well. The point of view is between the both of them- hopefully it's clear when and where it changes. Either way, hope you enjoy- and as before, reviews are always appreciated, and if they're properly done(constructive crit!), they encourage me to continue writing- something I desperately need.

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><p><em>"I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground.."<em>

A rush of freezing cold air hit me as I opened the makeshift door I'd installed into the front door of our hotel. It was really a pet door, but I'd tweaked it a little with some thought and had made it a draft-free, easy-to-use door for stitchpunks. I shivered a little, pulling my small coat on even more taut around my body. Another object that I had made. These days, it was necessary if we were going to get out of the hotel. And 7 was definitely not going to settle for staying cooped up inside for several months until this weather blew itself out. Her mild case of 'cabin fever' had shown that.

I suppose it's a little odd, even now, years after the war -_our_ war- truly ended, for there to be weather. I mean, we're used to it, it's been there for a long time. But only this year had it started to be really noticeable. Winter, as it was called, had never been this cold or restricting in years previous. Over the years the weather had slowly gotten worse and worse. For example, two years ago, summer was only mildly hot. But last year, and this year, it had been unbearably hot. Enough so that 7 had overheated, and I nearly did as well.

Presently, I stepped out of the door. My snowshoes, another necessary item I'd crafted, prevented me from falling waist deep into the snow. I knew that if I hadn't worn the shoes, I would've ended up being unable to get much further than the edge of the forest due to exhaustion. I couldn't let that happen.

I had a mission and I wasn't going to fail this time.

Momentarily, I recalled a discussion I'd had with my soulmate. Me and 7 had decided that we were ready for a child. Life in the hotel was lonely, even having each other, and we were committed enough to each other now that we felt we could properly raise a child. Nothing had been done about this just yet, however, as we wanted to be sure there were no immediate threats in our area before bringing life to a child.

Which was my mission now. I was going out, in the middle of a snowstorm, to search for a machine 7 said she knew was still out there. And, she had added with some hesitation then, it was dangerous. Even more dangerous than any machine we'd defeated before, with the exception of the Fabrication Machine. One had to keep that in mind while considering the fact we'd cleared out the entire forest around our home of machines long ago.

According to her description, it was fit for traveling miles at a time, it was huge, and only appeared for a few months at a time. Always in the winter. 7 told me that it was always too difficult to find, and had decided that it was one of the smarter machines. She'd only ever caught fleeting glances of it.

I shook my head a little, sighing. I just hoped that the snow would, somehow, give me some sort of sign as to where it had disappeared. No winter had been this fierce before, and there hadn't been much snow any other time, so perhaps that would be an advantage. Mostly, I just hoped I'd find it before it found me.

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><p><em>(Three weeks later)<em>

Drowsily I opened my optics, stretching out and curling up into the blankets, the only source of warmth I had right then.

This took a few moments to register, but when it did, I bolted up, glancing around. This sudden action sent a wave of nausea through me- or at least, what felt like it. I had no stomach to speak of, but I still had a similar feeling. Tightly closing my optics, I held a hand to my stomach, remaining still until it neutralized and I could at least stand up. I pushed myself onto my feet, glancing around. 9 was nowhere to be found. Instinctively, I retrieved my spear. I wasn't risking any harm coming to…

I shook my head. No, that wouldn't happen, and I wouldn't even think about it. My mood was a rather fragile thing at the moment, and there was no sense in causing myself anxiety. Glancing down at myself with a slight smile, I slipped off of our bed and walked out of the room, using my spear to hold myself up; I was still rather tired, as I'd had a bit of trouble getting to sleep the night before.

I glanced around, not quite sure where to start looking. It wasn't like 9 to disappear; that was more something I did. Therefore, I was a bit unprepared for this.

Raising my voice a little, I called out for him. And again. And again, as I walked down the hall, searching. Then, suddenly, a draft hit me, and I shivered. I walked onto the indoor balcony overlooking the lobby of the hotel. Blinking, my gaze fell onto the door.

The makeshift door was wide open, as if someone had left in a rush, and snow had already accumulated just inside the door. I wasn't sure if…_something_ had gotten in or if someone had left. My mechanical heart skipped a beat.

Immediately, I made my way down onto the first floor, grabbing a coat and a pair of snowshoes. The other pair was gone. So, I reassured myself, that meant 9 had left. It wasn't all that reassuring, though. It was still storming horribly outside and I had no idea why he'd left, or how long ago.

I didn't hesitate as I made my way out the door, after strapping on the snowshoes and covering my body as best as possible with the long, trench-coat-like clothing. Despite it, I still shivered quite a bit as I trudged through the snow.

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><p>I'd been searching for hours now, and hadn't come across a single thing. The landscape was no more than a bunch of flat spots dotted with little ridges where rocks, saplings and the like attempted to break the surface. Anyone else would have been completely lost, but over the years, I had developed a little bit of an internal compass. With little effort on my part, I knew this forest perfectly, and even without much in the way of landmarks, I could easily retrace my steps. I'd been traveling steadily west for a while now.<p>

Eventually, I came across a large lake covered in ice. I picked my way carefully over it, and as I neared the other side, I froze.

There was a large hole in the ice about two feet away from the shoreline, and only a foot away from me. Slowly, I approached it, knowing I wasn't heavy enough to break the ice. I peered down into the hole, then glanced up and continued walking. I came across another hole closer to the shore, and noticed how it seemed there had been a struggle. Already frozen water was scattered around the edge, the hole having uneven, jagged edges, and claw marks around them.

No, that wasn't possible. I'd killed all the machines within miles of this place, and it'd been years since I'd seen any. Except for one. I shivered a little, shaking my head again. No.. No machine would be so stupid as to come out in this storm, especially not that one. Unless it was sure its prey was going to be easy to take down…

Swiftly, I continued on my way, now hoping that I was on the wrong track, that 9 had gone some other way, and some other creature had fallen into the water. Even though it made no sense at all, it was all I could do to prevent myself from trembling in fear.

Then, there, in the snow, just a few inches from shore, I saw it.

A lump in the snow, the shape too specific to be anything else. Immediately, I knew who it was.

I rushed over, my heart pounding in my chest as I bent down beside him, desperately shoveling the snow away from his body, uncovering his head, then the rest of his body. I quickly rolled him over, and as I did, I felt a pang of grief go through me. His eyes were empty, and all across his body, countless tears gave me a look at his internal mechanics. Nothing looked destroyed, but he was motionless, and through a large tear in his chest, I could see his heart was still.

Below his waist, I saw his legs were shredded, barely more than bare metal skeleton. The joints were twisted in an abnormal manner.

It was clearly the work of the machine, and I knew that, even if he'd somehow survived all of this, the snow would've very quickly covered him, and he wouldn't have been able to stay warm enough for his body to continue working. Unable to climb out, weak from his wounds, he had probably died a slow, lonely death..

I gave a light sob, despite the fact we couldn't actually cry. We could feel grief and sadness, and still act out crying without tears.

The thought of him so lonely… The thought that he was probably just wishing he could be back with me.. The idea that he would never get to see what he'd created… It felt like my heart was breaking, just at the thought of it.

I remained there for a long while, almost as if I hoped the blizzard would take my own life. Mostly, though, I was just trying to figure out what I would do. I could leave this place, live as a loner again for a little while. Try and forget about this..

But, something about that felt wrong and disloyal. I knew I couldn't, anyways. In a short time, I'd have company. Could I really do it alone, forcing him or her to be unaware of their father?

Miserably, I climbed onto my feet, only now noticing that the blizzard had calmed. I blinked in disbelief, unable to help but glare up at the sky. Of course _now_ it stops. Not hours ago when it might have changed my fate.. His fate. And ultimately, our fate.

I grumbled. My emotions were mixed at that moment; a bit of confusion, some fear, a lot of grief, and a lot of anger. Denial. Frustration. Mourning. All were to become a big part of my life now. But soon each seemed to quiet as a new sensation surged through me, stronger than the rest. It seemed to soothe me, give me something else to think about, something to do.

_Revenge._

A blood-thirsty, vicious lust for revenge.


	2. Part 2

A/N: Well, this came faster than I expected. Turns out, this'll be a three-parter. I think 2K words each part is pretty good, so I'll leave this here. Not a lot is resolved here, but, to me, this chapter is necessary, and is a good mid-point. Though.. I've never been good at machine battles, I hope I did the movie justice. Any resemblance of any OC machine is purely coincidence.

As usual, I don't own 9, the song Howl, or the characters seen in this fic, except for my two very minor OCs. Rights go to Shane Acker and Florence + The Machine, respectively.

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><p>"<em>Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers.<em>

_Starts so soft and sweet, and turns them into hunters."_

I spent the rest of the day carrying 9's body back to the hotel, though I collapsed from exhaustion as soon as I had closed the door. My body was weak, trembling, cold, and added to the work it was already doing, I was forced into a recharging state before I could even get up to my own bed.

I later woke up in a disoriented haze, nausea causing me to tremble and curl up tightly in a ball. I whimpered lightly, willing the feeling to go away. As I waited for the sickness to fade, my memory returned to me, and I froze. Slowly, I turned my head to glance up. Just as I had expected, he was still there. Still motionless. Still _dead_.

I couldn't help it as another whimper escaped my throat. Slowly, I climbed to my feet, doing my best to ignore my nausea. I slid my arms under him and hefted him up, ever so slowly making my way up the stairs to the second floor. It was hard work, and just standing made me tremble. I wasn't exactly weak, and I was quite the athlete, but I felt too sick for this sort of work. However, I persevered, soon climbing up onto that last step. I sat down briefly to rest, my hand instinctively sliding over and finding his. I gently squeezed it, my optics closing as my head lowered.

I felt more hollow than ever, and I didn't quite know what to do. My life was changing faster than I could keep up with. I longed to just bury my face in his warmth, curl up and shut out the rest of the world. Let him comfort me. Soothe my worries and fears- of which I had many. More than I'd ever had in my life. Those some sixty years of battling for my life, for the life of my family, my friends, everyone I cared about, even the countless nights I spent exhausting myself trying to learn all the skills I could… All seemed like nothing compared to this. I had always known what to do, where to go, what to say. Now, I didn't.

Eventually, my strength returned and I could continue. Miserably, I climbed to my feet and scooped his body back up. I turned my gaze upward and began towards our -no, my- room.

My eyes widened in hope as I saw his head shift. Quickly, I spoke, unable to keep a tone of relief and desperation out of my voice. I wanted to hear his voice. I needed to. "9? Are you okay?"

No response came and I lowered my head, realizing it was probably just from me walking. I started trembling again, and my hands tightly gripped his body, trying to prevent myself from yelling out in misery. I had to endure it.

I soon reached my room, carefully climbing up onto the bed with him in my arm. I gently set him down on one of the pillows, staring down at him for a moment with a hollow, detached expression.

I spent the rest of the day repairing his wounds and machinery that had been destroyed. I didn't know why I was doing it, I barely paid any attention to anything. Everything was just a blur. Truthfully, despite the fact my body was focused on healing him, my mind was whirling, trying to plan my revenge. I would have it and nothing would stop me.

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><p><em>(Several days later)<em>

"_The saints can't help me now; the ropes have been unbound._

_Like a child possessed, the beast howls in my veins."_

I silently stared out the window, The land was still partially lit, and behind the clouds the sun was rapidly setting. The clouds were, surprisingly, clearing just as fast as the sun was setting.

Leaping from the windowsill, I leapt onto the bed, retrieved my newly-sharpened spear, and hurried out of the room, keeping my optics locked on the path in front of me. I didn't steal a single glance in 9's direction. What was the point? He wasn't coming back.

Slipping my skull helmet on, I made my way downstairs, opting to simply vault off of the balcony onto the floor rather than climb. Beside the door, I'd stacked all sorts of potential weapons. I scanned each one, weighing the pros and cons. After a moment, I tied a bola around my waist, opened my front and placed several tiny daggers inside, and left the hotel.

I hurried across the hard-packed snow, stabbing my spear into a tall oak tree as I reached the forest. Gripping its bark, I scaled the trunk, eventually coming to a stop and perching on a branch about half way up. However, after a few seconds of rest, I continued and got to a branch near the top. After this, I began leaping from branch to branch, making my way deeper into the forest.

I began to go over my plan for revenge, finding it more interesting than planning where I'd jump to.

My plan was to, quite simply, turn that machine into a pile of scrap metal. Not even that. When I was done with it, it'd be little more than a pile of slivers. I'd make sure of that. _Nothing _got away with murdering my soul mate. I gave an irritated growl, images of the machine's demise filling my mind.

Suddenly, I yelped, my foot slipping off of an icy branch. Frantically, I scrambled to grab it, but was unable to. I fell down a few feet, smacking into branches as I went. I groaned in pain each time, though I soon snatched the end of a thin branch, clinging to it tightly. Optics wide in alarm, I cursed under my breath at my foolish mistake, grunting as I heaved myself onto the thicker part of the branch near the trunk.

I sat there panting for a little bit, while a dull ache throbbed in my middle back. I narrowed my optics and stared pointedly at the branch I'd slipped from, grumbling my irritation, feeling belittled. I didn't make mistakes like that. I didn't get distracted.

However, my thoughts were soon interrupted. A loud roar filled the valley, and I turned my gaze towards it, a smirk growing on my face as I began towards the sound. I still stayed in the trees, knowing it was the best cover, even if the trees were completely bare.

Eventually, I reached the machine. It was hunched over a tiny fawn, and I watched with disgust as it began tearing the creature apart, only giving it a second to screech in pain. All for fun. I couldn't help but imagine 9 as that tiny deer, rendered helpless as his back legs would be broken, his weapon torn from him along with, more slowly, his life….

In an instant, I flipped off of the branch I was standing on, landing squarely on the machine's back. I gave a roar in anger, beginning to fiercely tear at its clear, thick plastic exoskeleton. Immediately, I was able to tear through it; electricity surged through me before I could react, and I yelped in pain. In response, the machine bucked me off, throwing me into a nearby tree.

I convulsed for several seconds, trying to endure the pain of so much energy surging through my body. I was barely able to do it, and my vision flickered black, bringing me just on the edge of fainting. Growling, I forced myself up, still trembling, and climbed to my feet, optics narrowed at the machine, determination flaring in my eyes.

It watched me with unblinking eyes as I met its gaze.

Its body was noticeably feline in shape, with thick, powerful looking legs. However, all the metal on its body was as lightweight as possible, while still appearing to be quite durable, allowing it to walk on snow easier. Cat-like eyes accentuated a dangerous-looking face. The machine couldn't even fully close its mouth, and when it did, its dagger-sharp metal teeth protruded from under its upper lip.

I was thankful it was only watching me. I still needed time to gather my strength, and I was still trembling as tiny sparks of electricity continued to shoot through me. I guessed I had only hit a minor wire, as a more major wire would have caused me to black out, or worse. Ever-so-slowly, I opened my front and retrieved one of the daggers, hiding it from the machine's view. Then, when I felt I was sufficiently rested, I swiftly began to climb up the nearest tree. I felt the machine's gaze on my back, like the heat of a fire.

I still continued climbing, desperate for the safety of height. I reached a high branch and stared down at the machine with a scowl.

It watched me, almost with an ironically curious look, as if it didn't feel I was any threat. It felt it was going to kill me, and it saw no need to rush it. It would have fun with me, and when its fun ceased, it'd finish me. I knew the type well enough to judge such from its gaze alone.

Well, not on my watch.

I raised my arm to knock its eye out, aiming carefully, and tossed it down with perfect precision, hearing a loud crack as the glass of one of its eyes shattered. Smirking, I prepared my second dagger, but too late; the machine opened its mouth and shot a small net at me. Unable to avoid it, I gripped the dagger and prepared myself as the machine yanked the net back towards it.

It dropped the net once I was in front of it. I stared up at it, as defiant as a caged tiger, giving a bit of a snarl.

It leaned down and sniffed me; something confused it, and it remained there, continuing to draw in my scent. Or, more likely, the scent of my soul. Then its gaze flicked upward, and it lifted its head, staring off into the trees for a moment. I wasn't sure what had distracted it, but I seized the opportunity to cut myself a hole in the net.

Quickly, I slipped out of the net, just in time for the machine to decide there wasn't anything there and it could turn back to its prey. Immediately, I flipped around and launched the second dagger at its other eye, knowing it'd be easier to fight it if it couldn't see. I knew it could still smell, but it would have a harder time actually _fighting _me if it couldn't see where it was putting its paws.

…Somehow, I missed and it hit its cheek. My optics clicked open in disbelief, while it roared in anger at me. Leaping at me, it smacked me in the side with a massive paw, throwing me, yelping in pain, into a nearby snow bank. Shivering at the sudden cold, I bit back a groan of pain and managed to get back out of the snow.

I had no idea how I'd missed such an easy shot. Perhaps I was...distracted? Mentally kicking myself for making that mistake again, I gripped my spear and charged- only to be knocked down again, this time a bit more lightly. However, despite the lack of actual pain from the blow, I had no chance to get up.

The machine planted a paw squarely on my stomach. My eyes widened, and, instinctively, I trembled. I couldn't help it. As the machine seemed to almost smirk at me, I desperately attempted to straighten up. I wouldn't show cowardice or fear. I couldn't.

Raising my spear, I began to angrily slash at its paw. In response, it pressed down on my stomach, and I felt an uncomfortable, squirming sensation in the area. I closed my optics, unsure of what to do. If I did anything to protect myself, my child would likely die. But if I gave up.. We'd both die, and I wouldn't have managed to avenge 9's death.

Thankfully, as long as I did nothing, the machine didn't press down harder.

I knew I couldn't go on, allowing myself to live 'peacefully' with the knowledge I had caused his or her death. Instead, I would just use this time to plan an attack. The machine seemed to have…some sort of sick amusement from feeling my baby's soul squirm underneath its paw. So, I had some time.

Eventually, I closed my optics, my body falling still. I knew this worked on machines half the time. Perhaps it'd work with this one.

To my honest surprise, it did. The machine lifted its paw, peered down at me, and gave a light growl in annoyance as it batted me away. It'd lost interest in prey that was, supposedly, unconscious.

Peeking an optic open, I watched it turn and begin to walk away. I stifled a bit of a chuckle, climbing to my feet. Charging it again, I leapt onto its back and began tearing at its plastic-and-metal exterior, being more careful to avoid hitting any wires, knowing I probably couldn't survive too many more of those shocks.

The machine reared, giving a furious roar in anger to have been tricked. Lifting itself onto its back paws, it backed up, half stumbling, and half purposefully walking backwards, before smashing me inbetween its back and a tree. More of the uncomfortable squirming in my stomach area; as for me, I groaned, blackness reappearing just on the edges of my vision. I felt lightheaded and dizzy, my optics blinking rather tiredly, and I began to hear noises that I knew couldn't be there, but that I couldn't find the exact source of. One in particular rose out above the noise.

"7? 7!"


	3. Part 3

AN: Suppose this should be posted now; I finished it a while ago but was too lazy to upload it. Sorry it's a bit shorter; there's an epilogue to be posted after this as well, which is my excuse for the length.

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><p>A warm, gentle hand ran over my stomach. My optics flickered open, and I was met with nothing more than blurry shapes. Groaning in pain, I shook my head, attempting to reorient myself.<p>

Where was I, what was happening, and whose voice was that murmuring gentle words of comfort?

As my vision began to clear, I sat up, grunting in pain at a dull ache in my back, followed by aches all over the rest of my body. I set a hand on my back and lightly rubbed at it, optics tightly closing in discomfort.

Warm arms slid lovingly around my torso; instinctively, I tensed, until recognizing the feeling of burlap on my canvas skin. My optics clicked open, and I whirled, unable to believe the sight in front of me.

There, behind me, looking as sweet as ever, was my love. 9. He was alive. _He was alive. _Or was I dead?

I didn't care which it was; all I cared about was the fact 9 was back. My arms wrapped around his body as I squirmed around to face him, tightly embracing him, burying my head into his fabric like I'd longed to do for days.

Unable to contain my joy, I began to speak, my words tumbling out faster than ever. "9! You.. You're back! Creator, I'm so glad to see you, I can't believe it, but I'm still happier than ever to see you! I missed you so much… I thought you were dead… No, you _were_ dead, how're you alive? What happened? …No, actually, I don't care, I just want to hear your voice more, I need to-"

"Shhh." His signature smile appeared on his face, and my optics widened, locked on his eyes. I could see more love than ever in them; a sense of comfort, pure happiness, complete and utter bliss fell over me. My optics fluttered closed as I laid my head down on his shoulder. I clung to him rather tightly, refusing to let go, almost afraid that if I did, he'd disappear, and I'd be left alone again.

"You've been through so much lately, 7.. Just relax." As he spoke, he began to gently rock me back and forth. I hadn't realized I'd been trembling; the stress and sadness and denial and all those emotions I'd held inside of me for the last few days having been finally released. But his actions soothed me, and I allowed myself to fall quite relaxed for the first time in days.

"How…how are you alive, 9? Are you alive? Am I dead? ..What...what about our child?"

"It's a long story, my love… But.. I'll start at the beginning."

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><p>He was right; it was a pretty long story.<p>

It turned out, he hadn't ever been truly dead; his body had sent him into a sort of hibernation, or perhaps a comatose state, where all processes were shut down indefinitely. He told me this with some uncertainty. He didn't _actually _know, but from how he described it, added to what I'd seen, it seemed accurate enough.

Supposedly, when I had brought him back to the hotel, his body had started to reawaken. He'd gained a limited amount of consciousness, and his body had started working a bit more, but he'd still been in the hibernating state, thus why he hadn't been able to do anything.

When he finally had woken up, probably just minutes after I'd left to avenge him, he'd very quickly discovered the dozens of notes and drawings and diagrams I'd drawn out in desperate attempts to give myself something to do, and to figure out my plan for revenge.

Because his body had recharged quite a bit while he'd been in the hibernation state, and because I had repaired all his wounds(which he'd figured out by the numerous patches and stitches covering his body), he was easily able to set out and find me.

And, he said, it wasn't that hard to do. The machine's roar could be heard for miles, and as soon as he'd figured out I was nowhere to be seen, he'd followed them. Just in time, too.

"When I got there, I was so happy to see you, 7... But then I realized, you put yourself in danger while carrying our child, and… Creator, 7, I've never been so scared."

I dipped my head in a show of apology and of slight shame. "I know.. I regret it now, but.. I just couldn't help it, 9. When I saw your body, ravaged so horribly, and so lifeless, something just took over and all I wanted was revenge. I hide my grief with anger, and I guess that turned into a desire for revenge.." Leaning up, I slid my cheek against his, turning my head a little to gently peck him on the cheek.

"But I'm so grateful you came back, and…" I hesitated, uncomfortable with admitting this. "…You saved me, 9."

A look of surprise flicked on his face for a moment before it turned into a look of love and forgiveness.

"I guess we're even now then, huh?" His smile turned into a bit of a playful smirk, and I couldn't help but smile back.

"Honestly, 7, I was just doing what any good soulmate…and any good father would do. Protecting my love while she's…less able to, as she's working so hard to create new life. And protecting our little one's future.."

He set a hand on my stomach, beginning to stroke it in circular motions. Underneath his hand, I felt a soft fluttery sensation, more pleasant than the squirming that'd been my first true feel of our child's existence. It almost tickled, and I couldn't help but softly giggle, my smile growing wider as I saw his do the same.


	4. Epilogue

AN: The final stretch. Hopefully a good ending to this story.

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><p>Months had passed since the incident with the machine. As the months flew by, it had become increasingly clear I was…carrying, as I preferred to put it.<p>

Not that I cared. Sure, I had, at first, been uncomfortable with 9's insistence on me being extra careful, and his begging to carry me around, among other things- but it soon became routine, and I found it within myself to remember it was for the best.

Then, at about the two and a half month mark, in the first week of February, I found it impossible to sleep or stay still at all, despite the fact it was incredibly late.

I woke 9 up when I began to feel unusual pressure, along with small pangs of pain every so often, in my lower half, unable to keep my expression from showing some concern and apprehension. Though I'd read plenty about this, I had no idea how it'd work for a stitchpunk. Even though most everything had been the same so far- symptoms and growth-wise -, how could I be sure that the actual delivery would be the same? And even if it was, it was supposed to be horribly painful.

Well, I decided, as 9 watched me with sympathy, I'd just have to find out now.

It was well into the morning by the time I was finished, and could relax. However, all of a sudden, the cries of a child caught my hearing sensors, and I sat up, instinctively looking towards the sound of my child's voice.

9's expression was one of almost childlike wonder as he held a tiny, crying white bundle in his arms. I watched quietly, though 9 soon turned to look at me, and a bit of an amused smile grew on his face.

"Creator, 7... You look like you think I'm going to hurt him or something. Here, you should hold him so that he sees you first when his eyes open.. And yes, he's a boy."

Ducking my head in slight embarrassment, I reached out and lifted the child into my arms, curling him close. I gazed down at him, now deciding all the pain and work I'd gone through to create the tiny child had been worth it.

Just seeing my child's face, so much like his father's, as his tiny optics opened up, to see me, his mother, for the first time… Few things had ever given me such joy.

The little newborn's optics seemed to take a moment to focus as I watched with a smile. Leaning down to nuzzle the top of his head, I whispered quietly to him, "Shh… It's okay, momma's here. You're safe.."

His crying, which had already seemed oddly soft and quiet, faded as I spoke the words with a gentle tone. He looked me over once, and then gave a small, contented giggle as he reached up to touch my face. I took the chance to study my new child's features.

His body was made up of white canvas, and he had a tiny brown splotch in the middle of his back. On his front, a zipper secured his two sides, the tab looking to be made of some sort of fake leather. His feet were much like my own, but the copper was more like 9's, glinting in the dawn light. Tiny hands reached out as he began to feel the new world he'd been brought into, and I let him wrap a hand around one of my fingers.

I soon glanced up at 9, loving the proud expression he had. "9... What do you think we should name him? I was thinking, perhaps.. Well.. He's so tiny, and his fabric's so pure white.. Not to mention how quiet he seems to be.. Maybe.. Snow?"

9 gave a small nod, reaching out and gently stroking young Snow's forehead with a thumb. "That sounds like a wonderful name, 7. Very fitting.."

I nodded, allowing him to take Snow from me so he could bond with him too. In the back of my mind, I couldn't help but wonder if his tiny size had anything to do with outside forces in the early stages of my pregnancy. Even though I had nothing to compare it to, he just seemed abnormally tiny.

I soon pushed these thoughts away, honestly not caring; my child was absolutely wonderful no matter his size, and even if he did turn out to be smaller than normal, I'd love him more than anything. I _did _love him more than anything.

As I watched father and son become acquainted, I began to feel drowsy, a sense of bliss and contentment taking over. Yawning, I snuggled up into the blankets and curled up, peeking an optic open as I heard 9 begin to lovingly hum, the notes interrupted every so often by gentle words of love and comfort. I saw Snow gaze up curiously at his father before laying his head back and drifting to sleep, curled up into the tiniest little ball.

Then, 9 handed him to me, and I curled him close to my chest, hoping that my heartbeat would be of even more comfort. My optics flickered closed, and I allowed myself to fall into a deep sleep, deeper than I normally slept. I felt safer than ever, enough to let my guard down.

I didn't notice as 9 slid the curtains over the nearby window, darkening the room to aid in our sleep, nor did I notice his loving, proud gaze as he watched mother and child peacefully sleep together, a warm smile on his face.

"_If I lay here… If I just lay here…_

_Would you lie with me, and just forget the world?"_

* * *

><p>AN: Snow's design and name were mostly done by my friend, so don't credit me for that. However, we both consider him my character, so.<p>

Hope you all enjoyed; it was a nice pass time. ^^

However, I will _not _be writing anything else with Snow. There's several reasons why, but it's pretty decided that I won't be.

I mean, it's still possible, but quite unlikely. So please don't ask.


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